《A Borrowed Life》


 1. The Taste of Bile

    "The formation is stronger than my spell, Your Highness. I can''t open the path forward on my own," Xie Qing said, polite as one is in the face of royalty.


    "But that," Shang Aureal Mei replied, pointing, "is the path to the Legacy cave''s Convergence Hall. Don''t you want to give the real trial for the Legacy?"


    Qing''s gaze slowed on her pale finger before moving onto an ornate copper square 10 meters in size, framing a tunnel''s darkness within. Nine other doorways stood in the cave hall. The ground was a palette of black everywhere, except for the front of this path, which held a dash of color. Nurtured by the formation''s natural water aura, scant patches of dirt had bloomed into stubborn grasses: the only source of light here. Not as if the darkness mattered to them.


    Qing''s eyes reflected the blue glow, and a pondering settled in in them, silence prevailing. He''d encountered Shang Aureal Mei in a previous cave, and she''d guided him through a treacherous path, saving him three quarters of his yati. Unsure of her motives, he''d surmised she was a seeress: one able to find opportune paths. Rare.


    "And you can''t help me break it?" Qing asked.


    Shang Aureal Mei spoke in a singsong, a blooming smile on her face. "I told you before, my yati is of the water element, so the formation will absorb it." She paused before speaking in a voice tinged with accusation. "Since my technique''s grade is much higher than yours, using a technique in Unison is out of the question."


    Her remark may have annoyed Qing, had her lips not been so pink, and her eyes their innocent green. He averted his gaze, afraid she''d take him for a lecher. And Heaven forbid his eyes lowered beneath her neck by accident, if even for an instant. She wore a yellow dandecotton shirt and an aqua skirt made from the nets of a bubble-spider. The display of Qing''s willpower was such that, while from passing glances he knew it was gold string, it eluded him what the brocade drew upon her chest.


    He recalled his own shabby scholar''s robes, pathetic for a Daoist at the stage of Joge, of introspection, and he sobered. Me and her...a daydream even brother might laugh at, he thought.


    "Hmm, ah right!" Shang Aureal Mei exclaimed, moving a hand through her hair, a river of auburn, and extracting a dark brown comb. She smiled and continued, "Its yati is not one of the earth sub-elements, but it''s pure, nonetheless."


    Figuring it rude, Qing didn''t extend his amor sense towards the comb; not like he had the guts to step that close to her. It surprised him no jewel twinkled in the blue glow. A princess carrying such a plain article?


    Qing used a technique, his only one so mysterious, he''d got in a Legacy cave years ago. He''d never learned its name, titling it "Amor Parda". His eyes turned hot as amor churned in them, and Amor Parda swept away a curtainfrom against the face of the world. The grass glowed vivid as blue flame, and the darkness inside the bronze gates receded to some extent.


    Upon the comb''s surface, invisible to naked eyes, green etchings depicted men and women with pointed ears worshipping a tree whose crown blocked the sun. It stunned Qing. He dispelled Amor Parda and spoke, intent on clearing up the princess''s motives.


    "Your Highness¡­ why? Only an insane person might dare to offend an imperial princess, one who''s even allowed to use the clan name. You can just leave. It''s not like any treasure or technique from such a lowly cave would be more than trinkets to you. Why are you even here? This has been bothering me for a while now, and if you can resolve my doubt, I''ll consider following your suggestion."


    Throughout his speech, the princess listened with rapt attention, interleaving with nods and sounds of agreement. Her devoted expression made finishing his verbal tirade tiresome, and he wondered when he''d become this crude a man. In the end, the princess widened her green eyes, two emeralds staring into his obsidian pair.


    "I stand to gain nothing substantive, true. But¡­" Shang Aureal Mei said, trailing off. Qing''s jaw loosened as redsaturated her pale cheeks.


    "But?"


    "My governess once said, ''Fragrance remains in the hand that gives flowers.''" Shang Aureal Mei''s blush deepened before she slammed her right foot onto the ground, shaking her aqua-blue skirt. "I snuck here after fooling my guards, intending on cutting the sluggish life of the Court. Halfway inside, I found a struggling Daoist, so on a whim, I gave him flowers. Did I wrong?"Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    A novel emotion erupted in Qing''s heart, ignorant of the word "whim" she''d said. They had no friendship between them, how ever much his heart wished, and yet an anxious concern rose from his throat.


    "But human stupidity knows no bounds, and cultivators are too reckless. What if someone were to attack you? You could encounter a Core cultivator here!" Qing asked before instantly realising how desperate he looked. He''d given his emotions away, and that was a taboo for all cultivators, daoist or not.


    Shang Aureal Mei just giggled and swept her auburn hair upon a shoulder. "I''m the imperial princess, stupid. Do you think I don''t have ways to protect myself? As for what I plan to do if I meet someone of the next stage, that¡­" She stretched the word thin, bending forwards, as though building suspense. "You don''t need to know! I''ve already resolved your doubts, haven''t I?"


    Afraid she might cover herself with a mantle of indifference, as her royalty suggested she do, Qing hurried to bow and apologise. When he looked up, the princess had begun strolling over. Startled, he took a step back, but the princess leaped within this delay. His hurry to draw a weapon dissipated upon hearing a soft whisper.


    "Cultivators are cautious when borrowing, so I''ll let you inspect the comb with amor." A soft hand pulled Qing''s wrist away from his belt of holding, elevating it to chest height, and along with it, his blood pressure. A second hand placed the wooden comb in his grasp. Willpower--an amount he didn''t know existed within him--battered down the surging vices.


    Shang Aureal Mei took a step back, but Qing still thought it too close. He gulped and lowered his eyes, trying his hardest to make no stops along the way. Finally, the comb appeared in his vision, the princess''s aqua-blue skirt in the background.


    He dipped his amor inside the comb, a common way to discern the function of yati-fueled treasures without imbibing them with actual yati. Under the wooden surface, a sea of green rippled, suffused across the fiber of the wood, confirming his guess.


    Part of the holy tree from the Land Beyond The Ocean! Its yati is a mix of several wooden sub-elements, but with the purity levels, my spell should be twice as strong! Qing thought. Poor as he was, a spell by the name of Earth Devour had made it into his possession, becoming his offensive ace. With it, he had once overpowered two spells of the early Joge stage. A whisper ended his contemplations.


    "We have to hurry, Brother Xie," Shang Aureal Mei said, lovely impatience in her voice.


    Qing''s situation was already a test of his willpower, but she also had to go and call him by his name in that tone. Unable to hold himself back, he dared. "Qing."


    Disappointment weighed on his heart asher jaw unhooked, but the smile that bloomed right after brought his spirits to soar.


    "Aureal! Don''t forget to return the Grass-Sea Comb later. Breaking this formation should only consume a part of its yati."


    Satisfied as though he''d eaten a luxurious meal from the Seven Hells Restaurant, Qing nodded and turned to the glowing patches of blue grass, to the ornate copper frame, to the darkness.


    Outside the body, amor moved analogous to honey, sans the weight. But inside flesh, it reigned supreme, besting any flint''s spark in quickness. So in no time, yati was being guided along inside his meridians.


    Qing chanted unknown words in a gloomy tongue, forming hand signs in quick succession. "Earth Devour!" he yelled, letting escape the yati he''d been cycling.


    A thrust of his left palm projected a barren hill, translucent brown and 7 meters in width, in front of him. He spared amor for the comb; the pieceof the holy tree released its bounty. A gaseous stream in various shades of green flowed out of his right hand, hastening into the projection. The pure yati didn''t cause the hill to grow, as he''d expected; instead, verdant greenery now cheered on the hill.


    Once the fantastic burgeoning paused, Qing acted, glancing at Aureal before shoving the projection with his amor. The hill rushed forth, domineering yet silent, and Qing followed. The spell held great might but required amor for propulsion, which extended 1 meter from his body.


    The doorway glowed blue in welcome, and droplets of water gathered in haste. A mass of water yati, impure yet bountiful, swerved downwards and charged, building momentum.


    The moment of the collision at hand, the hill split into a gullet, adevil''s mouth ready to devour his foes. On the opposite side, an unforeseen force guided the formation''s downward swerving, giving birth to a rising wave.


    The projection swiveled in the air, turning the hill''s now twin peaks to the front. The blue maw and the earthen fissure met each other, shaking the walls, and splashing them.


    A chilly wind carried strands of blue grass into Qing''s face. The two spells battled, trying to swallow one another, but only Qing carried the risk.


    His spell was composed of a single stage, being a glorified battering ram, but the formation''s wave rose to reach its peak, shifting into an offensive. A perilous omen loomed high, but Qing felt confident. If he disrupted the formation at its point of least momentum, victory would be in hand.


    Hedisregarded his core, sucked dry by the prolonged battle, and instead, he poured the entirety of his amor into the comb, wishing toend it in a final blow. And yet, before he could breathe life into his wishes, the green stream reinforcing the hill''s verdancy died. Like a marionette, he swiveled his head. The wooden comb in his right hand crumbled into gray stone, causing him to turnhis gaze to its owner.


    He stared as Aureal''s figure vanished into smoke, her true body next to the tunnel, one foot inside the ornate copper frame. She threw no concerned look behind, as though uncaring or confident of his fate. The projected hill crumbled like a giant version of the comb, starved of yati.


    Bile rose in Qing''s throat: the taste of betrayal. Four meters behind the hill, he never got the chance to flee. The wave''s descent smashed more bones than he could count. An instant of unbearable pain later, darkness filled his vision.

 2. A Lease at Life

    When Xie Qing awoke, he was looking into a mirror, but for one discrepancy: the reflection''s gaze was stuck in place, staring into a fixed point in space.


    Qing waved his arm but found no change in the reflection. Still dizzy, he brought his hand up to his face. A misty see-through palm reflected in his shocked eyes. This was no mirror! It was his flesh and face that lay before him. He shook his head to see what form he occupied now, for it had to be something, considering he could move a hand before. From drenched and torn scholar''s robes, to dripping hair weighing on his shoulders, this misty form matched his body in appearance, floating above it like a cloud. Just, when he tried to close the wide-open eyes, his hand went through the head.


    He couldn¡¯t figure out what to make of it, almost too afraid to study his own flesh, lest he arrive at a woeful result.


    "That is a corpse," an unknown man said from behind him, hastening the conclusion Qing was beginning to arrive at. The voice had been hoarse.


    "Who is it? The spirit of the reincarnation cycle? Or the Heaven Emperor?" Qing asked, uncaring of whether the other found his question impudent. Dying made one lose the fear of consequences.


    "Neither would appear at the demise of one so insignificant."


    Qing followed up, unshaken. "Then why have you?


    Footsteps began and ended closer behind him. A withered hand entered Xie Qing''s vision and shut the corpse''s eyelids, before grabbing his shoulder without passing through it, straightening him so his feet floated an inch above the stone ground.


    Qing studied the old man who owned the decrepit hand. The bright yellow dragon robes caught his eyes first. On it were painted two brown puppets, one adorned with a crown and the other holding an alms bowl, with limbs bound in red embroidery threads. These red threads extended to the robe''s shoulders and then to the forearms before disappearing into the sleeves.


    The old man wore a mask of wrinkles with hair white as snow tied into a bun. Qing peered into his dark eyes, averting his gaze a moment later, as though by the will of some natural law, before trying again with the same result.


    "Right now, the planet''s laws are trying to break in so they can escort your soul to the reincarnation cycle," the old man said, motioning above with a finger.


    Xie Qing looked up to the cave''s ceiling where a silent battle was taking place. A green jade disk was rotating and warding off smoke-like strands extending out from the rock. Visible beneath the disk''s surface was a symbol resembling two archery bows facing each other.


    ¡°Don¡¯t feel wronged. It is their righteous duty to take your soul, as you could not be more dead. But I¡¯ve come with an opportunity. With my strength, your soul can be returned to the body. Two hundred years later, I will collect this debt, and your claim on life will be renounced. Do you accept?"


    "I have a million doubts in my head. But I¡¯ve learned not long ago that people don¡¯t have to say the truth to answer your questions."


    For the first time, the old man¡¯s thin lips changed their angle to what resembled a smile. A network of wrinkles on his cheek shifted with the movement.


    ¡°Mortals say that a lesson learned in time for death is one learned too late. Now you know better.¡±


    Qing smiled back. ¡°What do you want me to do in exchange for this time?¡±


    The old man sighed and turned somber. "Your infant eyes can¡¯t see the ocean of impossibilities all life is submerged in. Betting against the everchanging net of fate, even I am a gambler. It is better to let things take their course."


    Qing tilted his head in wonder, keeping the words in his mind to ponder another time.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°You met me as a soul, and so this memory will be locked until you¡¯re a man of spiritual prowess. Now, be my audience.¡±


    Finished speaking, the old man raised his left hand. The blink of an eye later, it held an ax with a silver head and a wooden handle. His empty right hand moved above the corpse¡¯s head. For a moment the palm glowed silver light upon the bloodless face, before seven rotten stems of seaweed began to rise from its forehead. Upon growing to eight inches of height, the yellow-robed old man gripped the seven stems, and the ax chopped off six. The left hand then fell, empty once again.


    ¡°Let¡¯s put this here for now,¡± the old man said, raising the bundle of seaweed to cracked lips, blowing them toward Qing¡¯s soul. These six rotten stems flew into places where his organs would be: heart, liver, lungs, spleen, and gallbladder. The kidney¡¯s location shined for a moment, but soon returned to being inconspicuous upon receiving nothing.


    The old man¡¯s hand receded into his sleeves, returning with two bronze goblets held in them. Faint tiger roars came from one, and a living impression of a clever-eyed monkey frolicked around the surface of the other.


    "Drink from this one. It is the first gift."


    Upon the mention of a gift, Qing¡¯s movements hastened.


    Bowing to receive the goblet, he caught the reflection of the old man''s face in the shimmering gray liquid. Neither eye had pupils, and instead, the left glowed a cool silver while the right held an intense golden light. The reflection lasted for a moment during which his hands paused. They continued onwards, shaking a little now.


    Qing downed the contents. His soul body was incorporeal, yet the gray liquid permeated it. Once empty, even the goblet melted away into his being.


    "A soul of metal surpasses jade talent; hardships are the blacksmith''s hammer."


    Qing gaped as his divine sense seemed to turn heavier, perhaps imprinted with the old man¡¯s words. However insane that sounded, he didn¡¯t find the idea impossible. And while he could tell the effects of the old man¡¯s words, the goblet changed him in subtler ways.


    He reached for the other goblet, his hands now steady. But the old man turned and poured the contents onto the one rotten seaweed still growing on the corpse¡¯s forehead. The gray liquid covered the rotten green strand, encasing it in molten silver, and it disappeared back into the forehead. The empty goblet shrank into a tiny bronze bead and embedded itself between the body''s eyebrows.


    Turning back to Qing, the old man said, "Courage is a pretense to hide fear, but to bury this sense deep is folly. Learn cleverness from a monkey, and also learn to heed fear without letting fear take over."


    The sentences he spoke held an inherent meaning, as if just stringing the words together represented a law that couldn''t be foiled. And once again, Qing''s divine sense gained weight, incorporeal although it was.


    "Fate, ah fate¡­ Your cultivation is of earth, which is fitting of the second gift I¡¯m about to give you, and surprising. So half a gift of one fate thread will be yours too," the man said, flicking a sleeve and causing a long embroidery thread to break off and drill into his real body. When the thread''s length disappeared under the bloodless skin, a thin red line became visible from where the robe was torn, a tattoo running around the hip.


    ¡°For each of the other ten, I gave out a single gift. But you¡¯re getting two and a half.¡±


    His words that had been quiet, and his figure that had been wizened, all disappeared, replaced by a Majesty that seemed to command everything around them.


    "Look into my eyes."


    Qing''s gaze followed on its own accord, his mind unable to refuse. In place of the sun and the moon from before, the old man''s eyes contained a vast emptiness. Hypnotized, Qing forgot the existence of anything else. The cave''s walls, the corpse, the green jade disk, and the smoked formed by natural lawsdisappeared. Compared to the vastness in those eyes, everything else may as well had not existed.


    The old man disappeared as well, and only the pair of eyes were left. An image appeared in them, tiny at first, but growing larger fast, like a cultivator flying into a mountain. From a rough needle, the image became an earthen spear. A sharp moment later, the spear was a mountain. For nothing else in his life would Qing use the word "colossal".


    While Qing stood perceiving the ever-expanding illusion, the old man turned to face the dead body, clasping its cold hands together into the shape of a mountain. Horrible crunches like bone in a meat grinder began to echo in the stone chamber.


    "You won¡¯t suffer from the Man-Mountain Incantation, but the birth of those two¡­ Still, a simple test for a candidate of great feats," the old man said.


    Once the nightmarish musical died down, the old man grabbed the still hypnotized Xie Qing by the arm. In a swift motion, he threw the soul body into the flesh.


    "Two hundred years of time will mark our reunion, child."


    Qing heard the old man''s farewell inside the illusion, before the world turned dark for him.


    "This child''s death will put his goals at odds with the planet''s governance. Fate has brought me a good candidate," the old man said, pausing for a moment before adding, "Meng Tian, ten thousand years of fate will mark our reunion. The Heaven Void cannot be sustained forever..."